A Thin Line
by Fashionaddict22
Summary: AU and Modern Day. Madge Undersee is the best detective in New York but what happens when a case leads her directly to an old flame who broke her heart. Gale Hawthorne is an ex-soldier who wants more than anything for a second chance with the girl whos heart he had to break to save her - who now hates his guts... and has a gun. Gadge with some Peeniss and maybe some other pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm slightly obsessed with both detective TV shows and Gadge so yeah.**

**Madge**

So Close. We managed to find some fingerprints on the gun we found which Dr Barr identified as the murder weapon. The evidence points to an ex-soldier. The expertise of the shot, the chosen crime scene and the gun used.

When our guys face comes up I actually almost squeal with happiness, the creepy grin on my face normally reserved for the ones we arrest does attract some weird looks from Jones and Truman. Every female detectives dream – arresting a dickhead of an ex.

Today I get Gale Hawthorne. "Truman where is he?"

"GPS says that he's at an apartment on 7th"

"Come on boys" I stride out of the precinct, my heels clacking across the room as the boys follow me like well-trained puppies. Which they are really.

I just hope they don't see me slightly adjusting my appearance in the mirror.

Waiting silently outside the door mine and Jones' eyes meet. Lets go.

The door bursts open easily as I kick it with my shoe.

"NYPD!"

**Gale**

Me, Katniss and Peeta are just chatting idly when the door bursts open and a ton of men dressed in black run into the room. Men in black and her.

"NYPD" She looks great. Her blonde hair is in voluminous waves down to her small waist – emphasized in the white tank top and black, wide leg trousers. She shoes are scarily high and pretty chunky. Also she has a gun. Is it wrong that I think that's hot?

"Gale Hawthorne?" Her voice rings out clear across to the rooms shocked occupants.

"Madge?" Her bright blue eyes find my grey ones and her lips twist into a wry smile. Before I understand what's happened she's ran over here, turned me around and is currently cuffing me and telling me my rights.

"What the hell is going on?"

"You're under arrest for the murder of Richard Fisher" What?

Later I'm sitting in an uncomfortable grey, plastic chair that reminds me of the ones from school, in a small room painted a strange shade of blue. The only other furniture is the grey table and another chair identical to mine.

"Gale Hawthorne"

"So you're a detective now"

Looking slightly smug she sneers "Yes and you are unemployed"

"Why a detective?"

"I get a gun"

"That's hot"

"You haven't changed"

"You've improved" Her stunning features twist in disgust at my words – not the intended effect.

"So what happened Gale? Why'd you kill him?"

"I didn't kill him, don't even know him"

"You're lying Gale. We have evidence showing that the killer has trained with the military and you have recently been discharged from the military – coincidental timing isn't it?"

"There are hundreds of people that have been in the military you can't arrest me for that – it's all circumstancal and by the way – I didn't kill anyone" Madge glares at me and slams her hands on the table in front of me and I involuntarily flinch – which she smirks at.

She throws a clear plastic bag containing a vaguely familiar gun "Don't forget we also have the murder weapon and guess what – your fingerprints are all over it"

"Don't you have to ask for an alibi?"

"Fine – were where you between the hours of four and six pm yesterday" Oh thank god!

"I was at a movie then I went to dinner with Katniss and Peeta, I have the tickets and receipts here" I throw them on the table and am rewarded by a look down her shirt as she bends further to collect them.

"Fine then your free to go" She looks pissed, she turns on her dangerous-looking heel to leave but I grab her wrist, she looks at me with untrusting eyes.

"Can we talk – go get coffee or something?"

"I'm working"

"Afterwards"

"No Gale" She wriggles my loosened hand off of her wrist and heads to the door, as she leaves my past feelings come running back – dammit how the hell can you be in love with somebody who hates your guts?


	2. Chapter 2

"_Madge I need to talk to you"_

"_What's wrong"_

"_It's not working, we need to break up"_

"_Huh? But what about last week? You know when you told me you loved me"_

"_Yeah about that-"_

"_You're an asshole"_

"_Madge, wait"_

"_Fuck off"_

**Madge**

I feel like screaming. The one lead we've seen in two days and alibi. Fantastic.

Also Gale.

Nope, save that train wreck until you're emotionally ready – or have ice cream and the notebook on hand.

When I'm about to walk into the viewing room Gale walks past giving me a lingering look that kind of makes me want to run over and kiss his forehead. I just think he'd think I'm slightly bipolar – first rejecting him, now dying to give him some tlc.

Remember he's an ass. He's an ass who dumped you one week after he said he loved you and slept with you. Asshole.

I open the heavy wooden door to greet to grinning men. Jones – big, black, buzzed head and a smooth Jamaican accent. Truman – lean, pale, mop of shaggy red hair and British. Very British. What's weird is that both have almost identical chocolate brown eyes. They also have the same sense of humour i.e. pick on their boss.

I walk into a chorus of "What was that about? You know him?"

To which I obviously reply no.

"You know what Jones" Truman says in his sarcastic tone of voice – apparently the British love sarcasm- while he pats Jones' back.

"What Truman?"

"Don't you just hate it when murder suspects hit on you?"

"I know it's awful, happens all the time"

"Terrible isn't it" He shakes his head at me sympathetically, barely hiding his wide grin.

"Boys, just because you don't have the same raw sex appeal as me"

"Well that's not it, what really happened?" Jones quips

"Shut up Jones and trust me nothing is going on there"

"You do realise that we are detectives right?" Oh crap.

"Come on Undersee!" Jones try's to give me puppy dog eyes which look so alien on him it's hilarious.

"Free coffee for life"

"I get free coffee anyway"

"Ok free coffee from two guys who don't want in your pants"

"We're being more dirty minded than normal today – frustrated much?"

I'm greeted by two rounds of dirty looks and half-hearted attempts to dissuade me.

"Fine, years ago when we were both eighteen we were going out, one week he told me he loved me and we slept together and the next he was dumping me cold – I think you can guess why he went out with me from that" I sound more pathetic than I would have liked but oh well.

"Do you want us to arrest him anyway?"

"Nahh I'm alright Truman, what would you arrest him for?" he appears to think before replying.

"Dangerously high levels of asshole-ness"

We're still laughing at the joke which probably isn't funny when we're sat down at our heavy wooden desks.

**Gale**

"_No Gale"_

I don't blame her. I really don't seeing as how I handled things but I really wish there could have been a different outcome.

Rick's dead? He was on my team. He always used to talk about his family – two twin girls, two twin boys and an apparently 'gorgeous' wife. I've seen a picture – she's alright, nothing compared to my girl. Who isn't even my girl. Who would probably shoot me if she caught me calling her my girl.

I trudge to Katniss and Peeta who are waiting for me on a bench outside of the precinct. Or waiting for some guy to tell me that I've been arrested for murder.

"Who'd you kill?" Well thanks for sugar coating it.

"No-one, Katniss"

"Madge doesn't think so"

"I have an alibi – with you two!" we begin walking to their place. A middle aged woman who looks remotely like my 9th grade teacher gives me a dirty look as if suddenly I'll snap and stab someone or something.

"So you're not a physco?"

"Not this week"

"Good to know" Peeta butts in, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Asshole.

"So I'm guessing from your bad mood that Madge didn't react to kindly to your appearance" Katniss puts what I think she meant as a comforting hand on my shoulder but she looks really uncomfortable and awkward – as if she doesn't really know what to do.

"He's in a bad mood all the time"

"I mean today especially" Well thanks Katniss my supposedly best friend. Mellark really is in danger of losing the remainder of his limbs now.

They continue argue about the stages of my mood for another block or so while I contemplate how I could murder the both of them and get away with it.

Fake suicide? Car accident? Gas leak? Assassin? Good old fashioned stabbing or shooting…"So what actually happened?" Huh? Oh right.

"Well she came in looking pissed, blamed me for murder, I proved her wrong, she got even more pissed, I asked her out and she rejected me" Katniss and Peeta look at me like I grew two heads as I say the last part. We happen to be in our favourite coffee shop as well and the waitress Penny actually tuts.

"You mean you actually just asked her out? After what you did to her? I swear I almost murdered you and I knew why you did it" Yeah like Peeta could do that – I'd cream him.

I take a sip from my coffee, which tastes abnormally bitter today. Matches my mood.

"She's still pissed?"

"Gale, we're still friends with her therefore we know when she is or not pissed" Peeta adds. Taking a big gulp from his espresso. He slings his arm around Katniss at this point. Crinkling her burnt orange t-shirt.

"Oh, god why is this happening again? It's been three years can't I get over her already?" I throw my hands on the wooden table in front of us to emphasize my point "Dammit". Fuck a splinter.

Pity. Urgh I hate pity. Although I prefer it to the people looking as if they seriously question my sanity. Katniss leans forward and places a hand on my forearm but looks straight at Peeta as she speaks her next words. "Because you love her".

The worst thing is that she's right.

**I really love writing this – tell me if its crap. I also might have borrowed one teensy line from Castle (You've improved). **


	3. Chapter 3

**Madge**

Madge Undersee is frustrated.

The case full of dead ends.

The rent.

The annoying guy from the coffee shop who won't get the hint.

The weird flick in her hair.

Gale Hawthorne.

I swear he's everywhere at the moment. Even when I'm minding my own business attempting to solve a murder while he relaxes at home he steals his way into my thoughts. How dare he!

Yes it is his fault that I am thinking about him. It is. Honest.

That's how I end up perching on my cheap wooden desk, a cup of steaming coffee which has been written on with black pen in my hand, staring at a marker filled white murder board. Thinking about he who must not be named.

No not Voldemort. Immature.

Would that make me immature for coming up with that conclusion?

SHUT UP BRAIN

Solving a murder is like doing a puzzle. You can have all the other pieces that connect and make sense but it only takes that one vital piece of evidence that gives you the whole unadulterated picture.

_Damn she's a sexy chick. _

_Oh oh oh oh damn girl._

The ever tasteful David Guetta blares out of my phone causing the whole precinct to turn towards me with their eyebrows practically grazing their hairlines. Obviously not really seeing as that's kind of impossible.

Damn you Jess.

The ME in question's picture flashes across my phone indicating that she is the one who's calling me. I press the green answer button and growl down the phone.

"Jess how many times, stop changing my ringtone" I slam my coffee down on the desk only for the scalding hot liquid to flow over the cap and onto my hand.

"Madge I got the time of death wrong. It's not between 4 and 6. He was killed in-between half seven and half eight."

"Leaving Gale plenty of time after going out with his friends to kill someone" The light burn on my hand is forgotten now. Let's see him talk his way out of this one, Hawthorne's going down.

Professional Madge. Keep it professional.

I call for Truman and Jones and we high-tail it out of the stuffy precinct. Only stopping to take the mick out of Truman's hair which now resembles a Victorian schoolboy. Pnahh.

We wait silently outside the all too familiar olive green door. Gun in position, adrenaline rushing. Shake my hair out slightly and hold one finger up to signify that we will be barging in soon.

The door's unlocked.

We quietly move around, checking each room carefully for any signs of life. When Truman has given it the all clear we then look for clues as to where he is currently. He has a calendar featuring a lovely shot of a half-naked woman posing above the typical boxes for dates and appointments.

Classy.

We hit the jackpot. _12:30 Katniss & Peeta's_. Hell yes.

We're about to go to Katniss and Peeta's place when something catches my eye from a shelf.

It's a picture. Of me.

It was taken a few days before he dumped me. I'm smiling – gazing up at him with that look in my eyes that was reserved for him.

A mix of I want you and I need you.

It's not in a fancy frame, it's not pristine. It's ragged and slightly faded. There are smudges all over the photograph. It's obviously been moved around a lot and looked at a lot.

He was in the army right?

If he didn't love me then why did he carry that picture with him?

If he was going to dump me why did he get it developed in the first place?

Why the hell is there a picture of me here?

Looking around I notice more. My favourite record in the record player which I forced him to buy (it's better sound honest), the mug I brought him for his birthday, the empty box of Alfred Hitchcock's 'North by Northwest' 50th anniversary edition which I forced him to watch even though he hates both horror films and old movies.

What the hell is going on?

My eyes widen as inspiration strikes. Of course! He knew we were coming.

"Guys he knew that we were coming. He's left signs for me – the battered picture, my favourite record, the mug, the DVD. There all signs that say that he knew that we were coming – he had to have killed him. Let's go check Katniss and Peeta's place" I drop the picture back onto the expensive looking coffee table and storm out of there a worried looking team hot on my heels.

**Gale**

Again. Seriously?

Here I am minding my own business, putting objects on Peeta's fake foot and seeing if he notices (they're talking about the wedding, obviously they forgot that I have a penis) when she comes in again.

Looking great, if slightly more smug than usual.

AKA I'm in trouble.

Katniss and Peeta are frozen staring at her from their chocolate brown couch. I have no idea what they were doing seeing as I was distracted in trying to build a tower of placemats on his foot but Katniss is bright red and Peeta is holding up a picture of what seems to be a cupid.

His idea probably.

Madge crosses the room in record timing and somehow she manages to get me to turn round without my consent. It was probably the feel on her delicate hands on my skin.

Admittedly the scary looking gun helped.

The tension in the room is palpable as she silently cuffs me.

CRASH.

Ok it was silent.

"What are all the coasters doing on my foot?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~At the Precinct~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I shift uncomfortably in the freezing cold interrogation room.

With its uniform greyish walls and low ceiling it gives a claustrophobic effect. It's like I'm trapped, the walls are rapidly closing in and I'm stuck all alone.

My fingers drum in a consistent beat on the grey plastic table. My eyes dart around the room looking for an escape. My ears filled with the overwhelming silence.

She was here by now last time. Where is she? Why isn't she here?

The walls close in. I'm stuck. They are going to engulf me – swallow me whole. Grey is the last thing I shall see. Not exactly on my top ten list of last sights before death.

Number one is a certain pair of bright blue eyes.

After another five minutes in hell I'm recused by the gorgeous blonde confidently strutting into the room like she owned it and leaning over the desk.

Her blue top is higher cut than last time.

Damn.

"You thought you were clever huh? Injecting those drugs which tricked the ME into giving us the wrong time of death – the one you made sure that you'd have a solid alibi for but you knew that we would figure it out didn't you? So you left me that message to basically say that you're always one step ahead" What message? I only just realise how close our faces are. Her eyes stare into mine. Azure and silver meeting. The tension in the room increases dramatically and all I want is to just lean in a few centimetres and kiss her. I want to kiss her so badly. My gaze drifts down from her stunning eyes to her perfect mouth. So full and pink, are they as sweet as I remember? Unfortunately if I tried she'd probably shoot me.

Who am I kidding she'd definitely shoot me.

Realising that I haven't said anything which she is taking as a triumph I reply to her desperately hoping that how much she's affecting me won't show in my voice "This again? What kind of drug could do that? Also I don't have access to drugs like that and what message? Also if I'm always one step ahead how come you knew where to find me?" She sits down in the werid grey chair opposite me and whilst giving me a glare that almost makes me shiver begins.

"Everyone makes mistakes, we don't know that you have no connections whatsoever to the drugs and what was the battered picture, record, mug and DVD supposed to be? Having a mid-life crisis at 21?"

How am I supposed to tell her that the picture she found is what kept me going through my tours in the army? That I listen to the songs she likes and watch the DVDs she loves because it helps me to feel somewhat close to her? That I love that mug because I know how much thought was put into it?

How am I going to say this and not sound like a stalker?

"Happy accident". She throws her hands on the table in sheer frustration.

"Enough with this crap – where were you between the hours of 7:30-8:30pm?" Madge moves to the table again, setting each hand on the smooth plastic, leaning over and glaring at me. My mouth turns dry. Turning my head slightly I see an unfamiliar skinny man who I only just noticed is in the room supressing a laugh. Probably at my expense.

"Well we left the restaurant at half seven – ask the waitresses they messed up our order and I arrived at my apartment at eight – ask the doorman I didn't go out again" She again doesn't seem particularly pleased with my answer. "We'll check into that – don't leave town" she pushes herself up and away from my face and I'm rewarded with a hint of her apple perfume – my favourite one – and an excellent opportunity to check out her ass as she leaves.

Not bad.

**Truman**

"Well he wants to get in her pants" Jones calls out after watching that particularly tense interrogation. I don't think poor Hawthorne over there even realised that Blake was in the room.

He doesn't just want her though. There's a difference between just wanting her and really wanting her. If that makes sense.

Which it doesn't.

It's the way he looks at her – I've never seen anyone give someone that look before – well maybe my parents. His face when she leaned in towards him was pretty much hilarious. He looked faint.

I'm guessing that what Undersee told us wasn't the whole story – whether she knows it or not.

Cause people don't look at just anyone like that. Like when they're there that person is the only person in the world and no one else matters. That person is their world.

She deserves that. She deserves the truth because I have known Undersee for years and she hasn't looked at anyone the way she looks at him before. A mix of pure frustration and a little longing. With what she went through she deserves the cold, hard truth and I'll be damned if he keeps that from her.

We are like a family. Jones is like a brother to me, Undersee is like a sister, and Dr Dowling is that annoying little sister you like but you have no idea why.

No one messes with my family. I'll make sure of that.

Ok Jones will make sure but I'll be there.

When we leave the viewing room Hawthorne happens to be leaving the interrogation room.

He's handsome I'll give her that. Tall, tan with black hair and silver eyes. I walk over to him confidently and stand in front of him, blocking his way.

"Get out of my way – I've had enough interrogation for one day" he growls. A moody one. Trust Undersee to fall for a difficult one – crazy girl.

"Hawthorne, before you deny anything remember that I am a detective therefore I tend to be observant. You know Undersee – pretty, blonde, just yelled at you. Tell her the whole story." He was not expecting this. He slumps against the table to the right of us and transform his stony expression into one of forced innocence.

"Which story?" You have got to be kidding me. She seriously chose him?

"Snow White and the seven dwarfs you see she never got to the end to see if she woke up or not and you know damn well which story – the one where you pretend that you used her when if you'd been where I was sitting it was obviously more than that" We speak is harsh whispers as this office is like being back at high school. Gossip travels like wildfire. I will never admit it but I think that me and Jones are the worst for it.

We are still the toughest guys here though.

Who am I kidding Undersee could kick both of our asses.

He maintains his stony silence and I'm starting to wonder why she even likes him in the first place.

"Alright then, well: you were in the army, you left shortly after you two broke up, I saw that picture in your apartment to and you said you loved her a week before you dumped her – so I'm guessing that you didn't mean to say I love you and that it just slipped out, you realised how deep your feelings for each over were and I'm guessing you didn't want to think of her hurting in your absence so you dumped her before something could happen to you in combat"

I could have imagined it but Gale Hawthorne's head dipped into a small nod.

"In that case then you are a good man Gale Hawthorne and goddammit Undersee deserves to be happy so I will help you in any way that I can – just be warned that if you hurt her she has a gun"

As I turn around and head off to attempt to solve the murder I swear I can hear someone whisper "thankyou".

**Here we go. Not completely sure about how this turned out but it's kind of a tricky chapter to write and attempt to not go to OOC or make my originals (Truman and Jones) Mary-Sue's can you tell me if they are straying dangerously into that category? Ok bye x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Gale**

"Gale, are you sure that you didn't kill anyone?" Catnip says nonchalantly whilst casually picking up some milk in the grocery store (Apparently, Peeta can't be trusted to go grocery shopping as he always comes back with basically nothing, which is also why Katniss does inventory and purchases ingredients at his cupcake shop.) it's as if she asks if someone commits murder on a regular basis.

I don't particularly want to meet her (few) other friends.

"I think that I'd know Catnip" I pick up the exact kind of butter and simultaneously flip her off.

I'm just talented like that.

Seriously though all this murder talk is annoying me. Mom even called last night.

"_Gale Hawthorne what is this about you being arrested? I told you not to move to New York but no. What can you get in New York that you can't get here?" _

"_People who don't look suspiciously like their spouses and I was falsely accused of murder – twice. Oh and just to top it all off guess who's the lead detective"_

_The unusual silence on the other end of the phone tells him to continue on about this new piece of information that she can use to meddle in Gale's life. _

"_You remember Madge"_

"_Oh Gale. I'm guessing that you asked her out and she turned you down"_

"_Have you been talking to Katniss about me again?"_

"_No but I am your mother" As if that's the answer to everything. _

"_Do you mind if we don't talk about her?"_

"_So, I won't be getting a phone call from my son's ex-girlfriend explaining that said son has been carted off for murder."_

"_Sorry to disappoint"_

That was an interesting conversation. Ending with the tired old lecture about calling more often usually to be greeted by a vague noise resembling when someone sits on a cushion and him nodding his head.

This is completely pointless seeing as she can't see it.

"No need to be sarcastic" Oh Katniss right. She shoves a block of cheese into the trolley with much more force than necessary and storms off to 'find the flour'. She's always more hormonal than usual around the second week of the month.

I just don't mention it as last time she didn't speak to me for a week.

Her being in an uncalled for huff with me gives me the (unfortunately not) rare opportunity to go over my conversation with the English guy I think someone called 'Truman'.

What is it about professions involving violence that compels people to refer to others by their last name?

Anyway. Well I guess my plan from a few years back worked.

Too well.

Also apparently I am easier to read than I would have liked, well he is a detective…

Does that mean Madge sees it as well? She was always blind when it came to other people's emotions towards her though.

The first time I leaned in to kiss her she interpreted it as a handshake.

It was quite cool when I pulled her hand towards me and kissed her though.

Total Nickolas Sparks moment.

Getting back to the main point. Should I tell her? Would she even care?

The way she looks at me now. The most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen – unforgiving, never forgetting. I've seen them full of joy, in her own secret euphoria. I've seen them wet, miserable and been the cause of it.

Now they remind me of a frozen sea in winter.

Can I seriously face her again?

Without realising I've been heading down the stationary isle and come to a stop in front of a multi-pack of sunny yellow envelopes. Her favourite colour – she said it was the colour of sunshine and happiness. I always asked her what she'd been smoking that day.

A letter! Perfect! A beautifully written love letter delivered in an envelope her favourite colour should help her see the light. Or at least stop her from being so happy when she arrests me.

I pick up the pack of envelopes and stuff the into the trolley in-between the lucky charms and the frosties (what can I say I'm a kid at heart).

We'll be running towards each over in the rain, her in a horrible outfit and me shirtless very soon.

I need to stop watching those movies with Pose.

"Gale…" A horribly familiar voice growls.

"Coming Katniss".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A few hours later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Madge

To Madge

Madge

Undersee

Okay maybe work on the start later and move onto the main message.

Well you see the thing is

So you know when I broke up with you

Madge, I need to explain what happened all those years ago. You know when I had sex with you and said I loved you then dumped you.

So close. When coming up with this idea I forgot one tiny aspect.

I can't wright to save my life.

Helpful.

I love you.

Ink spills everywhere out of my pen. Fantastic. I screw up the ruined piece of paper and throw it along with my leaking pen and throw it into the corner of the room.

Alright maybe not the best idea if my newly spotted carpet has anything to say but I don't care.

It takes another hour and five sheets of paper but in the end I think I have something half decent.

**Madge – please hear me out and don't get rid of this letter immediately. **

**I've been trying to write this for hours so even in I sound like and illiterate idiot please don't hold that against me. **

**Along with everything else. **

**I'm not going to give a million worthless excuses as to why I broke your heart because for that I will never forgive myself. I am however going to tell you the real story as to what happened. **

**As you are aware shortly after I broke up with you I went on my first tour with the army. **

**I need to tell you this but I didn't mean to fall in love with you Madge. I just wanted some fun before I left but it turned into so much more than that. You are the only girl that could ever have done that I was entranced by you, completely and utterly under your spell. **

**Anyway I was going to be incredibly selfish and ask you to wait for me when I was in the army but after that night. That night when I told you I loved you and we spelt together I just couldn't. I couldn't bear the thought of you sitting alone waiting for a man who might not even come home. **

**I also couldn't bear the thought of you with some other guy but at least you'd be happy. That's all I cared about was you being happy. **

**So I broke up with you. The timing of that night (which by the way was indefinitely the best well everything of my life) was pretty good as it would make me seem like a horrendous jerk which hopefully would make it hurt less. **

**You may think that you were sad back then (I talked to Katniss I'm not assuming – well I am a bit) but what would have been worse? An asshole ex-boyfriend or the death of the man (sorry I'm going to be a cocky idiot again) you loved. **

**You need to know Madge. I love you. I am irrevocably, totally and utterly in love with you. I shouldn't love you this much but I do. Seeing you again, even if you were handcuffing me (didn't mind that bit) and telling me my rights everything I was trying to squash just came up again. **

**I love how stubborn you are, how you always manage to make me laugh, how you're so smart, how you can read me like a book and always know what to do to make me feel better, I love how my family adores you (Posy asks when Mwadge is coming back, my brothers miss you (I'm not sure how I feel about that) and my mother is always asking when I'm getting my head out of my ass and make things it up to you), I love your laugh, I love when you play the piano, I love how you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and you are so completely out of my league I have no idea why you agreed to go out with me in the first place because you're amazing and I'm just some egotistical jerk who is head over heels.**

**I should be embarrassed right now, by how completely whipped I am but even if you put this on a billboard in Times Square I wouldn't be embarrassed as it's the truth. I am whipped. Sorry. **

**Also please don't put this on a billboard in Times Square. I wouldn't be embarrassed but I don't particularly want it to happen. **

**Anyway if you could find anyway to forgive me that would be great but if you want to say your side of the story and tell me more can you meet me at 7 (pm don't worry) at our place on Saturday. **

**It's not a date I just feel like I at least owe you dinner. **

**Please show up even if it's only to tell me to leave you alone. We used to be friends. **

**I won't say goodbye so instead I'll say.**

**See you at seven**

**Gale.**

I fold it carefully and slip it inside the yellow envelope. It's 3:15 in the afternoon so the precinct won't be shut. I'll make out that I have some evidence I need to share with the cops.

It would take too long for me to mail it.

I pull on some shiny leather shoes anyway – I don't think grey converse would impress them much.

It's disturbingly easy to enter the precinct and place the sunshine yellow envelope on her desk. I study the decorations on her desk. An old mug, random scattered papers, pictures of her family and I snort when I find this out an empty box of what used to be Peeta's cupcakes cunningly hidden underneath a red leather jacket I really want to see her in.

I just wish that I could explain the strange feeling that someone was watching me.

**Unknown**

The tall attractive man stops studying her desk and finally goes. Leaving a bright yellow letter behind. I recognise him. He's the guy that asked her out.

That letter will never see the light of day.

Cup of steaming hot coffee in hand I make my way over to her desk. Switching a stupid love letter for the special coffee. I'm so glad she likes it strong.

I hear her voice – must be coming back from the morgue (must have found my present to her) and shoot her a wide smile.

Undersee the hot detective will be mine.

**Oohhh. I got tired of all angst no drama so decided to stir things up a little.**

**More on 'unknown' soon. I'll give you a hint it's an already introduced/ to be introduced next chapter character. (an original character to Posy isn't having a meltdown). Review please xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**I am so sorry that I haven't been updating much. First there's school work. Then writers block. And also my granddad passed away just over a week ago. Anyway here's the new chapter.**

**Madge**

"I wanna lawyer" Our suspect's ahem 'special friend' barks out.

She tosses a piece of cheaply dyed, black cherry coloured hair over her shoulder and slumps backwards into her chair. She smells like Britney Spears Fantasy.

"Don't leave town" Technically I have no right to stop her from leaving town – but she doesn't have to know that.

To be perfectly honest I sincerely doubt that 22 year old Emily Booth the stripper will know that.

Her full crimson lips distort into an ugly snarl as I slam my carefully pieced together evidence and get up to storm out of the room. Her forest green eyes narrow.

Calm down dear.

I storm out of the interrogation room to head straight to the murder board – ok maybe I get slightly distracted by the tantalising aroma of fresh coffee coming from my desk. I've been up since 6am trying to track down this lead.

My desk sits right next to Jones' one and from the looks of things they dropped off a present for me.

Bloody hell Fisher knew how to run up a tab.

I stretch my arms in a last ditch attempt to release some of the built up tension seemingly permanently implemented in-between my shoulder blades and the scalding hot coffee goes flying.

Excellent.

The harsh florescent lights make the coffee a fabulously disgusting shit-brown.

Just as the surrounding chatter of bored cops trying to distract themselves from the mundane, repetitive paperwork is really starting to push my buttons Jones and Truman burst through the door. They smell like cheap perfume, expensive cigars and are wearing way too big grins for someone doing a routine questioning.

"Strip club? Did you actually get any information at all?" They smirk at each over conspiratorially – obviously pleased with the err 'service'. I shudder as an uncontrollable and very unwanted influx of images flash in front of my eyes.

I wane poke them with chopsticks.

"Nahh, but it was worth it" Truman says, adding a wink in there for my benefit. Great.

I love them but do they have to be such guys? The precinct buzzes around us. Everyone cracking down on their cases. White boards propped up in various places around the room. Victims, suspects, piecing everything together. Trying not to annoy the captain.

Whenever Brown reprimands me I feel like a naughty five year old who broke a priceless heirloom.

I clomp over (looks like those etiquette lessons paid off. Not) and attach a picture of Emily Booth to the suspects side of the board. Getting some black ink on my sleeve as I go. Naturally.

"Okay boys, Emily Booth has lawyered up – Jones, keep digging into her relationship with the suspect, so we have one faint lead and a million dead ends. There is something that we're missing. Truman, go to the sports bar on 85th Fisher went there frequently so someone will know something – there's still an hour missing on our timeline so ask around" Their eyes follow my movements as I give them their instructions and they both get up to do their tasks. Jones calling a close friend of Booth's and Truman gallivanting off to some weird sports bar.

They're good boys really. Well trained, if I say so myself.

I turn around to meet Richard Fisher's muddy brown eyes. He seems so – normal. Hangs out in bars, like pretty girls, no drugs, no debt, and no motive for murder. What are we missing?

We'll find it obviously. Highest solve rate in New York isn't for nothing. Hey it provides a great distraction from certain ex-servicemen who just seem to keep on cropping up.

Stupid Gale. With his stupid flattering haircut and stupid heart-melting grin. He's such a, such a poohead. A big, tall, smelly poohead.

I dazzle myself with my matureiness sometimes.

Yes meaniness is not a word but Shakespeare made up words! – Shakespeare was a literary genius, you're an annoyed cop. _Shut up_.

My hand meets the board with a loud slap as my mind attempts to connect everything together. Nothing fits. Why would someone want him dead?

After another half an hour Truman strides through the door looking like the cat that got the cream.

"The bar isn't open Mondays" he trills. Leaning up against the side board and smirking at me. _Hang on a minute_.

"On Monday he went there for hours to watch a ranger's game and have a few drinks after"

"Looks like someone has some explaining to do"

**Gale**

I am confident that she will reply. After my completely endearing, warming the cockles of her heart type letter she has no choice.

Either that or I'm really screwed.

I adjust the tie on the monkey suit I'm being forced to wear to my brand spanking new job. The grey colour matches my eyes perfectly and the arms are exactly the right length, a little shirt cuff peaking through.

The pants are too short though. Ehh no one will be looking at my feet anyway.

Apparently after leaving the army with such high praise the government wanted me to work in law enforcement also I happen to know the Mayor very well and might have pulled a few very important and very influential strings. So here I am the latest Captain of the 12th precinct. Since death is apparently my speciality.

I think I'll take that shrink right now.

As the banana yellow cab pulls up to my new place of work only one thought ran through my mind.

_Oh shit._

**Madge**

No one even told me that Brown was leaving. Certainly not Brown herself.

Yes she liked keeping her co-workers at arm's length. Surely that means not coming down the bar afterwards not deigning to mention a promotion. Honestly!

Just as me and my boys are clinking coffee cups in celebration that she's finally gone we see the new Captain.

"You have got to be kidding me"

Gale Hawthorne walks through the door. His hand running through his hair and his eyes scanning the room.

Does he seriously have to be so good looking? The suit fits perfectly, showing off his slim tapered body and highlighting his intense silver eyes.

I think the universe just likes to watch me squirm.

Oh god. I have to answer to him. Call him Captain. He is above me and only just come in.

Is that even legal? Probably not.

His eyes meet mine with such an intense gaze my natural instinct is to look away. Instead I just keep on staring at him. No unqualified idiot is going to intimidate me.

This is not going to be fun.

**Am starting to have more of an idea of where this story is going now. Last chapter isn't the last you'll hear from unknown. Yes even with all the string pulling Gale probably wouldn't be able to get the job in real life but it's a fiction story. I could make him sprout wings and fly like a fairy if I wanted. Hope you enjoyed. Please tell me what I can do better x**


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